When her cell phone chimed shortly before eleven, Lucinda knew without looking it was Jeff.
“Cinda, did I wake you?” His voice was warm, with a note of urgency, in her ear.
“Not quite asleep.” She stretched under her blanket and wished it was the down comforter they’d shared on one memorable occasion. “Did you need something?”
The deep chuckle on the other side of the phone was much too suggestive for her comfort. “I do, but we’ll discuss exactly what I need in a few weeks. I’m calling for Candace, who wants to be sure all her girls came in to take care of their dresses. One of them, I don’t know which, was tied up with some family thing. Candace was afraid she didn’t get her dress ordered.”
Lucinda knew about the situation. “Tell Candace that Kit and her sister were in this afternoon. We have Kit’s measurements, and the dress order went off before five. I think the sister is one of Shelby’s party? She said something about how much easier it was to order her things and had already received them. So reassure Candace. Those blue chiffon gowns are all ordered and will be here in time to have them fitted and hemmed. They are lovely. And it appears Shelby’s girls are taking care of their end of things, as well.”
“Good. Now how about the wedding planner? Is she taking care of herself? Wouldn’t she like an evening out? Just dinner? Maybe a stroll in the park to be sure the venue is holding up after all the bad weather?” Jeff’s tone had a hopeful note.
Lucinda sighed. “The wedding planner is usually ordering Chinese take-out and spending dinner at her desk or on the phone. And the park staff is taking care of the venue. So, thanks, but give me a raincheck, please.” She rolled over and stuffed a pillow under her head. “How are things going with the farmhouse? On schedule?”
“A bit ahead of schedule, as it happens.” She heard the click of computer keys. “I do have a question I’d like to toss your way, though. The kitchen window looks to the northeast, and I’m thinking of painting the room a robin’s-egg blue. What do you think?”
Flattered he’d ask her opinion, Lucinda considered the idea. “Blue, a very pale blue, might be pleasant. But if it were me, I’d rather have a warmer color, maybe a light, buttery yellow, in the kitchen. If the window faced west or southwest, afternoon sun would be a consideration, and you’d want a cooler color, I think. But I’d go with something warmer for a northeast room.”
“Mmmmm, I’ll have to take a look.” She heard the creak of his office chair and knew he’d leaned back to prop his feet on the bottom drawer of the desk. “So are you all wrapped up in your cozy quilt, bundled into your jammies, and ready to nod off?”
If you saw me now! Lucinda smothered a snicker as she pulled the frayed blanket over her faded Go Frogs sweatshirt and baggy pajama pants. “I was about ready to crash for the day. I have to be up at daylight.”
“Then I’ll kiss you goodnight, long distance, until…until when, sweetheart?”
“Let’s just make it au revoir, shall we? Goodnight, Jeff.”
“Goodnight, Cinda. Wish I were there to make certain it is a very good night.”
I wish you were, too. Lucinda didn’t dare voice the thought, and shut off her phone before the impulse could break loose.
****
She thought the Sinclair wedding was going well, but Lucinda made it a point to check in with the brides once or twice a week. The invitations had been selected, and she had a local woman with a talent for faultless calligraphy addressing the envelopes. Cake designs had been approved. With great relief she received confirmation from the chef. The single bridal cake would incorporate the butterfly theme as well as sprays of confectionary flowers. The grooms’ cakes would carry each couple’s individual taste—a classic chocolate with leaves and grapes for Candace and Alan, a guitar-shaped Italian cream for Shelby and Jerry. It was actually working out, Lucinda told herself as March blew a gusty exit and April arrived with days of soaking rain.
The most recent e-mail advised Lucinda the men of Candace’s party had all been fitted for their midnight-blue tuxedos, had ordered the correct waistcoat and tie, and would be arriving in time to pick up their garments. She wouldn’t have to make arrangements for them. Shelby’s men would be wearing indigo jeans and blue western shirts. The bride saw no need for boutonnieres for them, but Lucinda ordered the flowers anyway. Better to have too many than to have the bride decide she wanted them and have none on hand. Lucinda was feeling quite pleased with the arrangements when she looked up on a damp afternoon in mid-April and saw Jeff coming through the doorway.
Just the sight of him warmed her. It had been weeks since the last time they’d met in person, and phone calls, late at night or squeezed in between appointments, just weren’t satisfactory.
“How’s my girl?” he asked, leaning over her desk to brush his lips across hers.
His girl? “Which one? I haven’t talked to Candace or Shelby in a couple of days.”
“Cute. I mean you, and you know it.” He walked around her desk and turned her chair to face him. “Can you get away for half an hour? Stick a note on the door and come with me for just a little while? I need a woman’s opinion.”
She glanced at the gilt clock on the wall. “I have a girl coming for her final fitting on her wedding gown in an hour. I have to be back before she and the seamstress get here, to have everything ready. But I could give you thirty minutes.”
He gathered her into his arms and kissed her, hard and fast. “Good girl. Grab your purse, lock the door, and run away with me.”
“Where are we going?” She felt as if she were trotting to keep up with him. He hurried her out the door and into his Mercedes, still purring at the curb.
“You’ll see.”
Today he’s a kid playing hooky. She noticed his designer shirt was open at the collar. He’d shoved the sleeves of his grey sweater up and rolled his shirt sleeves. He wasn’t dressed in one of his perfectly tailored suits, either. The work boots and jeans certainly didn’t match his usual sartorial splendor. In fact, he looked as if he’d been out in the field or at one of his building sites.
Following the winding road leading to the Riverside Park area, Jeff exceeded the speed limit by more than a little. He still refused to explain, just kept the car hurrying along the damp pavement. Finally he turned up the little side road he’d shown her before, to the rolling hillside of trees he’d bought back in the winter. He turned into the cul-de-sac at the end of the lane.
“Look.” He pointed up toward the flattened hilltop. “What do you think?”
Lucinda looked where he pointed and felt tears well up. Cozily nestled between two ancient pines, with a backdrop of greening hills, sat the perfect Texas farmhouse of her dreams. The railed porch, the glinting metal roof, the peaked dormers—it was exquisite.
“Jeff, you did build it! It’s…it’s like something out of a picture book.”
“Want to see the inside? It’s not finished, but I think you can get the general idea. Before I wrap it up, I’d like a woman’s opinion.”
Did she want to see it? Lucinda couldn’t imagine anything that would give her more pleasure—or more pain. For years she’d dreamed one day she’d have a house like this, live in it, come home to it, and find the sanctuary she longed for. Now Jeff had actually built it. Built it for one of the girls as a wedding present, she reminded herself.
“Yes, of course I want to see it. I want to walk through every inch of it.”
“The drive isn’t finished yet, and it’s muddy. Too muddy for your dainty little slippers.” He slid out of the car, walked around to the other side, and helped her out. Before she knew what he was up to, he’d picked her up and carried her over the graveled path as if she weighed nothing. He wasn’t even slightly winded when he stood her on her feet and unlocked the cocoa brown door.
The door opened into a small foyer. “Watch your step. I don’t have the flooring down yet.”
She stepped into the house cautiously, half afraid he’d not created her drea
m house and half afraid he had. “This way,” he directed and led her from the foyer to the dining room with its wide bay window and through an efficient kitchen to a neatly screened-in porch. “There will be a powder room downstairs, and then a master suite, two bedrooms, and another bath upstairs. The attic will be usable as an office or game room or sewing room or whatever. It’s not safe to take you up there yet, but I thought you could see how it’s shaping up. What do you think?”
“It’s probably the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen. The rooms, the views, everything. It’s perfect. Just perfect.”
“And it has all the green technology to make it both comfortable and efficient. Everything is state of the art.” Jeff showed her the various modifications he’d made, but Lucinda could barely take them in. Her heart was too raw with envy of the woman who would soon live in this gem of a home.
“What I wanted to ask you…” Jeff interrupted her examination of the view from the screened-in porch. He pressed three paint-stirring sticks into her hand. “I liked your suggestion for the kitchen, yellow, but I couldn’t decide which one was the best color. So look at these and give me a direction to go, will you, sweetheart?”
Lucinda held the three samples up to the light. “This one.” She handed him a stick with a soft, creamy color on it. “It’s light, warm, and will blend with almost anything. Any style or color combination.”
“I think you’re right.” Jeff took her through the house again, talking about the way he planned to finish the rest of the house. The fireplace in the great room was faced in native Texas limestone. “The kitchen color would work well in here, too.”
Room by room he told her how the house would look. He listened to her responses and took notes of her suggestions.
“It’s going to be a delightful house, Jeff.” She followed him back to the porch and watched him lock the door. It was all she could do to keep from sitting on the steps and crying at the thought of leaving.
“I’m so glad you came out to look, sweetheart. I’ve waited a long time to build this house, and I want it to be as perfect as I can make it. Your suggestions were a big help.”
She took a quick look back and started down the unfinished drive. Jeff caught up and picked her up before she could sink down in the mud. “No, no, you’re not going back to the shop with two pounds of gravel caked on your shoes. I’ll get you back to the car.”
Feeling she’d left something of her heart back in the beautiful blue house on the hill, she let him carry her back to the car. The drive back to town took place in almost total silence. Lucinda’s thoughts were still roaming in the unfinished rooms.
Chapter 8
The last threads of the May wedding were tied off, and Lucinda had begun to think she’d make it through the tightly packed agenda of June. The Smith wedding had gone well. The Elliot girl had finally agreed to her mother’s less opulent plan. With luck, Lucinda would have her last fittings with the Wellington wedding party this week. Her checklists had more tasks marked off than items remaining.
If her sleep was sparse and frequently littered with dreams about a blue farmhouse with a butter-colored kitchen and a magnificent bay window, or tormented by erotic thoughts of a man with silvering hair and wickedly talented hands, she was still able to focus on the chore at hand. She was feeling fairly pleased about her situation, until her phone chimed and she saw an incoming call. Jeff. He’ll want to have dinner or drop by for a few minutes this evening. With a wistful pang, she decided she’d have to put him off again.
“Lucinda, I think we have a crisis. I can’t make too much sense of the problem, but Shelby flew in last night, and she’s about to lose it. She needs to talk to you.”
Shelby’s had a crisis! A broken engagement at this stage of things! “Of course I’ll see her, Jeff. Can she come over, or do I need to meet her at your place?” Even as she was responding to Jeff’s distraught tone, Lucinda scanned her day’s appointments.
“I’m bringing her, Cinda. I don’t think she’s in any condition to come by herself. We’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Puzzled and wondering what could have distressed easygoing Shelby so badly, Lucinda made phone calls to rearrange her afternoon while she waited for Jeff and his daughter. Shelby, in their e-mails and occasional phone conversations, had struck her as a competent and level-headed young woman. If she had little use for formal trappings, she had a deep regard for her sister’s opinion and that of her wedding party. Lucinda had developed an affection for both girls, but Shelby seemed easier to get to know than her more reserved sister.
As Lucinda was making coffee and setting out cups, the bell above the door tinkled. She turned to see Jeff ushering his daughter into the shop. Lucinda would have recognized the Shelby in the picture on her dad’s desk, but she wouldn’t have known this girl with the swollen eyes, tangled mane of hair, and tear-streaked cheeks who came in with Jeff.
“Miss Parks?” Shelby crossed the shop. A flood of misery colored her words. “Miss Parks, I’ve made the most awful mistake.” Brushing away the tears trickling down her face, she struggled to explain. “It’s…it’s awful, and I just…can’t see how to fix things. I’m so sorrrrrry.”
Lucinda could see the girl was tearing herself apart over the problem, whatever it was, and Shelby’s despair touched her. She couldn’t keep from reaching out to put comforting arms around the quivering girl. “Oh, my dear girl, I don’t know what’s gone wrong, but I’ll help in any way I can.” She led Shelby to the small sofa in the niche behind her desk. “Sit here and tell me about it.” Lucinda pulled tissues from the embroidery-covered box on the coffee table and wiped Shelby’s tear-drenched face. “Take a deep breath now. And another one.”
Shelby gradually regained her control. “I’m sorry, Miss Parks. I didn’t mean to come apart like that. I don’t think there’s anything we can do. It’s just a mess.”
Seeing the girl had calmed herself and was able to make coherent sentences, Lucinda suggested coffee and offered Jeff a chair.
He took a step or two back, waving helpless hands. “No, I don’t think so. It sounds to me like a problem way above my pay grade.” He gave Shelby a hug. “Call me, baby, when you and Lucinda have had a chance to talk things through. I’m sure she can help you find a solution.”
Leaving the girl alone to compose herself, Lucinda put coffee things together on a tray. In her years of dealing with panic-stricken brides, she’d found coffee, or tea, or sometimes a glass of wine, usually helped ease almost any situation.
“Now, Shelby, tell me about the crisis. You and Jerry haven’t decided to cancel the wedding, have you?”
Shelby’s red-rimmed eyes widened in surprise at the idea. “Oh, no. Absolutely not. Jerry and I couldn’t do that. It’s hard enough for us to be apart until the wedding.”
With a sigh of relief Lucinda put her coffee aside and picked up her pad and pen. “Then we can find a way to fix just about anything else. Tell me what’s going on.”
Shelby’s fingers tightened around the cup. With studied care she put it aside. “Miss Parks.” She shook her head and tried again. “Lucinda, I’m not a girly girl. Never was. I don’t think I’ve ever owned more than three dresses in my whole life, including my wedding dress. Clothes are something to keep me warm or to keep the sun off. I just don’t worry about what’s fashionable or stylish. And I guess, well, I didn’t think my girlfriends would feel any different about this wedding. To have them get all gussied up in some frou-frou dress they’d never wear again looked plain ridiculous to me. And when I said the western shirts and skirts and boots would do for them, I didn’t have any idea the girls were imagining themselves decked out like magazine models.”
Lucinda suddenly had an inkling where Shelby was heading with her explanation. “Some of your bridesmaids are unhappy with your choice?”
Ducking her head so her tawny hair fell forward to cover her face, Shelby didn’t answer for a moment. Then she drew a hard breath and straightened her shoulde
rs. “No, ma’am, not some of them. All of them.” She squirmed around so she was looking out into the showroom beyond Lucinda’s office. A mannequin draped in fifteen yards of lilac organza and a garden hat stood in frozen splendor on the dais. “All of them.” She pointed at the mannequin, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “The girls want to look like that plastic dummy in there. They’ve just about said they don’t want to be in the wedding at all if they’re wearing what I picked out. But I was trying to make it easy for them!”
“Tell me what’s happened. I’m certain there’s something we can do.”
Shelby sniffed, holding back another wave of sobs. “I don’t know what anybody can do.” She mopped away a threatening tear. “It all started when Kit, Candace’s best friend, came in to order her dress. Her sister Missy came with her and saw the blue dress her sister’s going to wear for Candace’s half of the wedding. Well, she went home and called all my girls about it, and they started calling me and whining. They don’t see why they can’t wear those fussy blue dresses, too. I don’t know why they’d want to be stuffed into those things, but they do. They want fluff and frills and that floaty material. They even want to get rid of the boots and wear high heels! I told them it was too late; we’d never be able to get six more of those dresses here in three weeks. And I don’t even like those blue dresses Candace picked. But, Lucinda, they’re all mad at me. I was trying to give them something comfortable they’d wear again, and this is the way they act! Like I’d done something mean and hateful. But what can I do to fix it now? The wedding’s in three weeks!”
Lucinda could see the misery darkening Shelby’s pretty face. The rebellion of her six friends was causing her very real distress. Lucinda tapped the point of her pen on her pad, trying to think through the situation. “Shelby, do the girls insist on dresses exactly like the ones Candace chose? Even if by some miracle we could get them on such short notice, can you see them with your dress? You are still planning to wear the one you chose, aren’t you?”
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